


Not the Russian Way

by obladargh



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Action, Angst, F/M, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7696981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obladargh/pseuds/obladargh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their missions together, Gaby Teller may always had Illya Kuryakin by her side, guiding her down to do her job because that was what they were best at; Gaby sneaking and blending, Illya monitoring and being her back up. However, while they were trailing their target in Paris, they got stuck and suspected, and Illya had no choice but to follow Gaby’s instruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Russian Way

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first gallya fic! Enjoy :)

“This way.” Illya turned to his side, pushing Gaby to follow his pace. Gaby quickly held his arm, making them looked like an engaged couple who were dashing while they were actually trailing a French black organization. Illya’s glance was sharp as ever, keeping his eyes on the man from the black organization who was walking out of the party. It could’ve been easy for Illya and Gaby to trail the man since they kept themselves unnoticed during the party; unlike Napoleon who often makes an alibi by getting to be the center of attention. Seemed like it was better to play safe, so Illya and Gaby decided to stay invisible.

The two of them kept pacing until they came to a halt, hiding on the corner of a building with Illya on the front, so he can peek through the wall, making sure that the man didn’t go out of sight. Gaby stayed by his side, holding his arm still.

“What’s wrong?”

Illya suddenly asked, turning his face to Gaby. “What? Nothing.” Her answer was rather like questioning him back, because of her high tone at the end. She was confused because she wasn’t doing anything when Illya abruptly asked the question.

“Your grip tightened.”

He looked down from her eyes to his arm she was holding. He then realized that she was trembling—apparently because she was scared, just like when they were about to go on a mission in Rome. But this time, they were in the middle of the mission, and Gaby didn’t want to distract him by admitting that she was scared. She didn’t want to risk blowing the mission. “Never killed anyone before?” Illya asked again, this time not facing Gaby but taking another peek to their target through the wall.

“Kill? No. Cripple? Yes.” She answered shortly, but that was enough for him to understand. Understand why she was scared again this time. Illya broke his gaze to their target and face Gaby, about to reassure her but Gaby looked away, not wanting him to see the fear on her face. For a couple of seconds she finally turned her face to his direction, but something else caught her eyes.

“Illya… I think he noticed us.” Illya’s face grew from soft to hard, slowly moving his glance. “—don’t look, he’s now watching us and if you look at him he’ll suspect you and me.” Illya did as she said, face still hard-looking with a twist of confusion. “Is he there still?” Illya asked since he couldn’t see what was happening behind his back. “Yes, having a cigarette. He’s standing by the road now, apparently waiting for someone or something.” Now it was Gaby who was able to peek at the man, but she tried not to peek too much and pretend she was having a casual conversation with Illya. “W-why are you smiling?”

“Pretending to be your fiancée.” She answered, now with a light chuckle. Her response got him more confused. “What—”

“Illya, kiss me.” Gaby said suddenly, a small smile lingers on her face still but her words were spoken in a more serious tone. “Gaby, no—” “—do it, and he will suspect we’re innocent.” Growing nervous, Illya looked down to think about another way they could do to save their covers but unfortunately they didn’t have much time.

“I’m sorry, this is so not the Russian way.”

Gaby stood on her toes to shorten their height distance and quickly pushed her lips to his, brought her left arm to the back of his neck to support her standing by the tip of her toes. Illya didn’t have the chance to collect his breath before Gaby suddenly kissed him, his eyes bolted open once their lips met. Within some milliseconds his body grew from stiff to soft as he slowly closed his eyes too but his heart was still beating like mad by the surprising action Gaby just did. With her lips still on his, Gaby slightly tilt her head so she could peek the man with one of her eyes. The man awkwardly looked the other way, simply annoyed by the sight of a kissing couple across the street.

They broke their kiss as the sound of a gunshot banging loudly through their ears, and they both could feel their bodies jumped slightly by the shocking sound. Illya instantly had his eyes opened, with Gaby still inches from his face, eyes already opened, but the look on her face was rather stunned. He noticed that her mouth was slightly opened, fear and anxiety started creeping up his mind. “Gaby… Gaby are you okay??” he put his hand on her shoulder and another hand on her back, shaking her.

No answer. Gaby’s eyes didn’t blink and her mouth started trembling.

“Gaby???” he started to panic as her feet grew unsteady and her body collapsed. Fortunately he caught her by the arms just before she hit the ground. Illya kneeled down and scanned her body, searching the location of the wound. Just then he realized that her right arm was stiff, and when he took it, he noticed that she was holding a gun.

Still breathing heavily, Illya looked around over his back and found a body of a man lying across the street. And surprisingly, there were blood all over the ground, streaming down from the man’s body.

That was the French.

Illya turned his face back to Gaby and found the now trembling girl. She looked really terrified, she got in a real shock that her gun dropped from her grip. “Shhh it’s okay.” Illya softly spoke, almost whispering, his hand caressing her arm and her face. “You shot a bad guy.” Illya tried to reassure, but her eyes began watery. She had seen hundreds of murder, hundreds of torture. But never in her life had she killed anybody.

“Congratulations on your first shooting,” Illya smiled, the smile other people barely saw, the smile that only appeared apparently when Gaby was around as he stroked her hair, “and thank you for the first kiss, chop shop girl.” Illya bent down, kissing her forehead. She let out a nervous chuckle, suddenly remembering how silly it was to finally have her first kiss with Illya in the middle of a mission, after many times failing their attempt to kiss before, back in Rome.


End file.
